Strangers When We Meet
by Kit4
Summary: While hanging out at Grimmauld Place one night, Harry and Sirius both discover something new about Remus. Sirius/Remus - The beginning of my Songwriters Series.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I'm not usually a big fan of Songfics, but unfortunately music is my biggest muse. So I have created a kind of Songwriters series. The song that inspired this fic can be found here: www . (youtube).com(/) watch?v=M8YAzDDOCbY (remove spaces and parenthesis) and might be good to be listened to while you read the story. Remus will tell you when to press play. ;) I hope you enjoy. It's been a long while since I've posted anything, so go easy on me, and enjoy!

Chapter 1

At the first soft stirrings of music drifting through the house Sirius' head popped up. He had been sitting in the kitchen with his godson talking over the various things that happened during the past school year.

Harry stopped in the middle of his sentence at the inattention of his godfather. "Then Peeves flew in and…Sirius? What is it?" Years now of warfare had trained Harry into alertness. He sat up straight, his eyes panning over the entire room, searching for the danger, never stopping the movement of his eyes. His wand was reflexively in his hand, at the ready.

"It's the piano," Sirius whispered roughly. "Moony's tuning it. Come on! He's gonna start playing soon. So long as we stay out of the room we can listen without him noticing. Playing the piano is the only time he becomes unaware of his surroundings. Only bloody times we could ever sneak up on him. Damned werewolf nose of his." Sirius grinned, obviously not meaning it in a derogatory way as they hurried through the house. "He's a brilliant musician though. Writes tons of stuff, but he never records it or lets other people hear. As soon as he knows someone's there, he stops. Which is why it's fortunate he doesn't pay attention to what's around while he plays. Otherwise we'd never have gotten to hear some of the most amazing music ever created."

By now Harry had become accustomed to hearing his godfather always referring to past incidences in plural. Having spent over a month of the summer constantly with him, Harry now knew that there was rarely a time in Sirius' life that he wasn't with his friends. He'd also noticed, however, that Remus never spoke the same way. With him it was always a mention of who exactly he was with, if he was with anyone at all. Most often it was his descriptions of what the others did, as though he were always outside, a spectator to the on goings of his friends' lives.

Harry and Sirius slowly crept up the stairs, not to avoid Sirius' mum's portrait, as Remus had finally managed to blast it off the wall a few weeks before, though his provocation is still unknown, but rather to avoid alerting a timid werewolf of their presence. The tuning ceased just before they got up to the doorway, and a soft tune began just as they settled right outside the doorway.

Remus Lupin sat at the old grand piano, his threadbare jacket matching the dust covering the top of the piano in their testament to the trials of time. His hair, now almost brushing his shoulders and streaked with silver highlights, fell across his face. His hands were thin, fingers long as they stroked the keys with the ease of one who has played their entire life. His golden brown eyes stared only at the keys before him, and Harry could now plainly see what Sirius meant about Remus not noticing their presence. His whole body moved with his music as he let it consume him and take over. Then, suddenly, he opened his mouth and started to sing. At first it was just sort of a croon, then it turned to words.

"All my friends, now seem so thin and frail. Slinky secrets, hotter than the sun."

His voice was deep and rough, but not in an unpleasant way. He carried the tune well, his voice riddled with emotion.

"No peachy prayers. No trendy rechauffe. I'm with you, so I can't go on." While the words were sad, he didn't sound resentful, merely stating a fact.

His fingers moved quickly over the keys as his singing became more emphatic. "All my violence, raining tears upon the sheets. I'm bewildered, for we're strangers when we meet." He threw his head back a bit as he sang before leaning back down to pour that emotion into the piano.

Sirius sucked in a breath and Harry turned to him quickly, giving him a quizzical look. Sirius barely turned his head toward Harry, his eyes never leaving Remus. "It's about me."

Harry turned back, trying to adapt this new perspective to the lyrics.

"Blank screen TV, preening ourselves in the snow." Remus smiled a little and Harry could almost picture the wolf and dog cleaning their fur in a snow covered forest. "Forget my name, but I'm over you." Remus sang out the last part louder, as though convincing himself as well as the world. "Blended sunrise, and it's a dying world." His voice nearly broke on that, despair filling his voice. Sirius looked like he was about to cry. "Humming Rheingold, we scavenge up our clothes." Remus had an odd almost bitter smile on his face as he sang that.

Harry studied Sirius' face at that, now finally seeing that maybe there had been more to these two's relationship than he'd ever thought. His heart fell as he realized how much they had both lost over the years.

"All my violence, raging tears upon the sheets. I'm resentful, for we're strangers when we meet." Now it was starting to come clear to Harry. How awful must it be to have thought your lover was a murderer for twelve years, and then get him back, emotionally and psychologically damaged, and try to talk. How hard it must be for them both to try to get back to where they were with so many years of loss and betrayal between them. They really were nearly strangers now.

Remus's fingers danced along the keys as he played out a beautiful melody. It wrenched at Harry's very soul. He could feel the passion and the pain that Remus had poured into this piece.

Sirius turned around and leaned his head back against the wall, nearly breaking down as the piano crescendo-ed.

"Cold tired fingers, tapping out your memories." An apt description. "Halfway sadness, dazzled by the new." Harry thought of all the funny moments as Sirius rediscovered life, albeit confined to this dark house. "The open release, it was all that I feared. That twirling room, we trade by vendu."

"Steely resolve, is falling from me. My poor soul, all bruised passivity." Remus gave a sad smile at that. Harry couldn't help but think it was a perfect description of him though. "All your regrets, ride rough-shod over me." Sirius looked regretful at that, clearly seeing how much pain he was causing his dear friend.

"I'm so glad, that we're strangers when we meet. I'm so thankful, that we're strangers when we meet." Remus tilted his head a bit, a sad smile playing on his lips. "I'm in clover, for we're strangers when we meet. Heel head over, but we're strangers when we meet." Sirius' head snapped up at that and he stared intently at Remus as he played out the rest of the song, repeating the last line a few times. "Strangers when we meet. Strangers when we meet."

Just before the song ended, knowing Remus would come back to awareness, Sirius grabbed Harry and drug him down the hall to a nearby room, where he threw the door open and shut it behind them, closing it gently, and leaned up against it, looking shattered.

"Sirius, what?" Harry asked, "What's wrong? What does it mean? Are you okay?"

Sirius took a few shaky breaths before opening his eyes and staring at Harry, an odd glint in his eyes. Then, he grinned, looking dazed and yet hopeful. "It means there's still hope, Prongslet. He's still in love with me." Sirius's smile could have lit the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Here's a link to hear this amazing song: youtube (.com) (/) watch?v=0nrMUBWdpTs (delete spaces and parenthesis, of course) If there was one song in the universe that personified my soul, it would be this song. Credit, of course, goes to the late, great David Bowie, love of my life. I hope you enjoy the story.

It was about a week after Harry and Sirius had caught Remus singing. Harry now watched Sirius and Remus' interactions closer, seeing now what he'd missed before. The lingering looks, the pain and longing when the other turned away, the casual, yet tentative, touches. He could definitely tell now that they were in love. And now he noticed the bright glint in Sirius' eye when he looked at his old friend. The glint of hope.

Remus had just brought over the last of his things from his old flat. Since he was now living at Grimmauld Place he had no need of his old place, but was able to sell it for some desperately needed money. Boxes upon boxes of books laid stacked up in the dreary living room, waiting to be unpacked. The three men worked steadily throughout the day, clearing out box after box, turning one of the old, unused rooms into a new library for all of Remus' books and other things that wouldn't fit into his new bedroom. Sirius seemed almost upset when Remus picked out a bedroom for himself. Remus gave him an odd look, but said nothing. Harry, however, gave Sirius a knowing glance and a smirk, only getting a glare in return.

The day passed slowly, but pleasurably, the three men talking comfortably with each other as they worked, telling jokes and sharing stories. Remus was in the middle of telling Harry a particularly humorous story involving his father, dress robes, and the moving staircases, when Sirius gasped out loud.

"And with a great rip, he was standing before Lily wearing only…. Pads? What is it? What's wrong?" Remus immediately became concerned, his attention snapping to Sirius without a thought. Sirius held a stack of colorful LP's in his hands and started flipping through them with interest, turning each one over to read the back. He sat down on the floor heavily, his eyes never leaving the LP's.

"Moony," he whispered, almost reverently. "These are your songs." Remus looked shocked.

"How could you possibly know that?" Remus was bewildered.

"Remus!" Sirius urged. "These are your songs!"

"Yes, I know, but…"

"Sung by DAVID BOWIE!" Sirius was practically gaping, shaking the LP for emphasis. His eyes were bright and wild, his free hand running through his hair, tousling his long, black hair.

"Yes, Sirius, I know, but how did you know they were my songs? How do you even know I _have_ songs?" Remus sat down in an armchair, reeling from this new discovery. Harry stood as a silent witness, wondering who on earth David Bowie was, and why he produced such an odd reaction from his godfather.

Sirius stared at Remus as though he were made of stardust, nearly breathless with awe. "I hear you, Moony," he whispered. "Every time you play, I hear you. How could I not?" Remus looked stunned. A light blush started to form on his cheeks. Sirius shook the LP's at him again. "How, Moony? How did David Bowie get your music?"

Remus sighed and leaned back in the chair. He looked down at his hands as though ashamed. Harry saw him swallow hard, as though it were difficult to even speak. "After...everything, I could barely hold down a job. I started performing in Muggle bars for extra cash. It was always very casual schedules so I could be off for the moon, and I made enough money to get by. One night I was at this little hole in the wall place, and at the end of my set, when I was getting ready to go, he came up to me. Held his hand out and introduced himself to me as though I had no idea who he was and hadn't gone to his concert that one summer when we all sneaked out and got all glammed up." He smiled softly at the memory. Harry saw Sirius choke out a little half-laugh and smile, eyes soft with love as they stared at the bowed head of his friend. "He said he liked my stuff and asked if I wanted to collaborate with him. I told him I wasn't one for performing, but I loved to write music. We met up a few times and he bought a few of my songs. It felt nice to have my work appreciated and heard by people without them having to suffer through my terrible attempts at singing."

Sirius looked at him like he was crazy. "Moony, what are you talking about? You're amazing! Bowie himself thought so!" Remus laughed a little to himself. "I want to hear one," Sirius declared. Remus looked confused. "One of the songs he bought. I want to hear. But I want to hear _you_ sing it."

Remus looked embarrassed and confused. "But why would you want to hear me? You love Bowie's voice."

Sirius stared him straight in the eye. "Not as much as I love yours." Remus swallowed hard again, the blush deepening on his cheeks, making him look years younger. They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment. Harry thought for a moment that Remus would refuse. Sirius' eyes seemed to dare him to try and say no. Remus searched his gaze for a moment longer, trying to figure out the peculiarities of his friend, before finally silently holding out a hand for the LP's. He quickly flipped through and selected one. He looked back at Sirius again, still puzzled, then shook his head a bit, giving up. He pulled the record from its sleeve and concentrated hard on it, then swished his wand through the air over it, muttering softly to himself in Latin. He rolled the tip of the wand up as though pulling the music from the depths of the grooves, and a swirl of silver-blue came drifting out, curling through the air and making its way to an old turntable lying in the corner. A soft, plodding beat drifted out. After a second or two, Remus' husky voice rang out.

"I took this walk to ease my mind. To find out what's gnawing at me." He turned at stared out the window at the rain soaked streets. Sirius and Harry watched his reflection in the window. Soft strings played in the background lending a haunting quality to the music.

"You wouldn't think to look at me, that I've spent a lot of time in education. It all seems so long ago." He looked self-consciously at his hands. His eyes were full of loneliness and his voice world weary. "I'm a thinker, not a talker. I've no-one to talk to, anyway." He closed his eyes as though in pain. Sirius' face was a study in agony.

"I can't see the road for the rain in my eyes. Ahhh …" He crooned a sad sigh. "I live above the grocer's store, owned by an Austrian. He often calls me down to eat. And he jokes about his broken English, tries to be a friend to me. But for all my years of reading conversation, I stand without a word to say." Remus' eyes filled with tears, and his voice sounded devastated, but he straightened up and stared straight out through the window. "I can't see the bridge, for the rain in my eyes. Ahhh…"

"And the world is full of life. Full of folk who don't know me. And they walk in two's or three's or more. While the light that shines above the grocer's store, investigates my face so rudely." The moonlight glinted off the scars running down his face. "And my essays lying scattered on the floor, fulfill their needs just by being there. And my hands shake, my head hurts, my voice sticks inside my throat. I'm invisible and dumb, and no-one will recall me." His voice nearly shook with unshed tears and his hands trembled as he held them up slightly. "And I can't see the water, through the tears in my eyes." He blinked slightly and tears rolled down his cheeks. The music slowly tapered off and left Sirius and Harry standing there in silence, witness to the baring of his soul.

Harry glanced over at Sirius, and saw he looked almost frozen, tears sliding down his cheeks. After a moment he breathed in sharply and wiped his face off, then slowly, as though approaching a wounded animal, made his way towards the window. Remus remained staring out, tears pouring down his face. He glanced up and saw Sirius' reflection in the window as he approached and gently laid a hand on Remus' shoulder. Remus' eyes fluttered shut and he sighed shakily, then relaxed backwards, letting his oldest friend support him and hold him while he worked his way through the demons of his past. Harry slowly edged his way out of the room, feeling very much the intruder on this private scene. He made his way down the hall, secure in the knowledge that this would at least bring them a bit closer, and maybe reveal some of the feelings that had been kept buried for so long.


End file.
